She therefore assumed an unhappy air and when Lili repeated, “A very funny taste.” she spoke with the same manner.
“It's not enough that he should go around sticking his tail into little snipes only ten years old,” said Charlotte sadly, “but then the kid comes and starts complaining to me about the taste. Those things never happen to anyone but me!”
“Little snipe's ten years old? Even if she is only ten, she's less of a fathead than you! She's beat off the secretary of the chief of police and when she decides to suck him, she'll get you sent off to the pokey.”
“Ah! That's all I need now. That's the one thing that hasn't happened to me yet. But what have I ever done to you?”
“You emptied your brother's balls before I got there and then you wiped his cock off with your cunt.”
This new expression of Lili's ravished Mauricette, who raised herself up on one elbow to follow the scene.
“The lock-up!” shuddered Charlotte. “Probably Saint-Lazare! No, my pretty little child, have pity on me. I'll do anything you want… for nothing.”
“Too expensive,” said Lili unperturbed.
“Do you want to see my hairs? My knockers? Do you want me to eat you out?”
“I've got my lesbians already.”
The detached voice the schoolgirl assumed here was so comic and so disdainful that everyone started laughing, even Charlotte. Lili continue however, without ever changing expression after having pulled a piece of bread out of her basket.
“Make me a nice come sandwich. Then go and get some honey to sweeten it. Bring it back to me and have one ready every day so I can take it to school for lunch. And no foolishness! If you try to screw me up, I'll have you clapped into the can so quick it'll make your head swim! Is that understood?”
“Ah! I could even make you two with the come that I get from earning my forty-five sous. There, under the bridge, there's a puddle every evening… And every time I go there I stick my mouth into it to have some… Is that all you want?”
“I want to watch you doing it too. Look! There's a passerby for you! Go ahead! I'll hide!”
This last sentence, “I'll hide!” was really a ten-year-old's; however, I hardly had time to appreciate the merits of her acting for I suddenly realized that the passer-by was supposed to be me. Charlotte quickly said, “You know what you're supposed to do? You stick it in my mouth, but nothing happens. You don't get a hard-on.” This conception of dramatic art was so simple that it reminded me rather more of Aeschylus than of the modern theatre. The scene to follow should therefore have three sections. And the third would be so easy to act in the state in which Mauricette left me that I decided to go along with the second as naturally as possible to try to satisfy poor Charlotte's mania. The second part also was as disagreeable for me as the one preceding, and I only followed it as in a dream. All of this was probably caused by the fact that I played my role very poorly. I had not been in the least ashamed to have held up my end with less distinction than Mauricette, but I was rather put off to find that even the simple Charlotte knew better than I how to carry out this role and expand her characterization.
She cane to me, her head raised, her hips weaving, and took me by the sleeve. “Want to have some fun, dearie?”
“No.”
“Come on. I haven't had it yet this evening and I just washed my pussy not fifteen minutes ago. Come on under the bridge. I'll lift up my skirt and you can screw me. Come on.”
“Me screw you?”
“I'm all right. I'm clean. I just went for a checkup today. And even if you don't want that we can do something else. I'm a good kid. Listen…”
“Fuck off, lady.”
“No, listen! I've had to take a piss for two hours. You want me to piss in your hands? You can wipe it on me afterwards.”
“You disgust me. Don't touch my sleeve with those hands.”
“Let me tell you at least… I'm a real pig! All you got to do is ask and I'll do whatever you want. Come on and I'll suck your dick. You can come in my mouth.”
“I don't need a whore for that! I can get a girl to do the same thing.”
“Do you think they can do the breathing fish like me? You know what that is? Listen and I'll tell you…”
“No! Hit the road! First of all I've only got ten sous and it'll take me four to catch a streetcar home,” I added, rather ashamed of these imbecilities.
“All right. Give me six sous, that's all. You'll be more generous the next time. Give me the six sous and I'll do the breathing fish for you. That's when I suck you and I blow the come out through my nose.”
Charlotte was making me nauseous. I still had a vague smile plastered across my face, but to hasten the end of the scene I said violently, “Will you get out of here or do I have to cornhole you!”
This is a formula that is often very efficacious for getting rid of streetwalkers; however, occasionally, it backfires and makes it even harder to shake them off.
Charlotte, who was playing her part up to the hilt, replied in a low, indifferent voice, as if I had asked her to do her breathing fish through either the right or left nostril, “Go ahead and cornhole me. I don't care. You don't think that I'll do it for six sous? I have to live. And then you can screw me if you want. Stick it in good and far. Don't be afraid of getting your clothes dirty. I'll wipe them off with the inside of my skirt.”
“Charlotte, you're filthy!” I whispered into one of her ears.
“This is a role I can really feel,” she replied sadly.
Despite the disagreeable sentiments with which the scene filled me, and which I hardly need to explain here, it was finally terminated by an accident which the young ladies who read this may not understand but at which the young men will be less surprised.
One thing that every young girl should learn before her first date is that there is no relation between love and the erection. On the contrary, to fail a woman is often to prove that you love her to the point where your senses are blinded. However, to unexpectedly find oneself with an erection before a woman that one does not in the least love is to treat her like a whore, gallantly but categorically.
And that's what happened to me in Charlotte's mouth. “In her mouth?” you say. “Some miracle. An octogenarian could have done as much.”
Even so, neither I nor anyone else expected it. First of all, I was supposed to remain cold, and nothing had seemed to me easier to do, for Charlotte's comedy had not in the least excited me. Then too I had just left Mauricette's arms. However, therein lies the explanation. That had been a half an hour before. Using her mouth had not been too wise.
My accident threw everyone into a turmoil. Understandably, it flattered Charlotte, but Teresa laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks. I blushed for I didn't find anything funny in it. Neither did Mauricette, although I motioned to her not to be worried.
Fortunately, Charlotte's sketch was constructed so loosely that even this unexpected development changed neither the intrigue nor the characters. It even added more force to the final scene.
Charlotte, still in her role as streetwalker, intoned dully, “I told you that I was a real bitch, that you'd get a hard-on in my mouth. And a very pretty one it is, too dearie. Listen! My brother has been fooling around with a kid and she's listening now… Listen! I don't want your sous. Cornhole me good and deep, let me finger myself, and if you make me come you don't have to give me anything. There! Look, there's my ass! Put it in there! Quick!”
She stood up, leaned forward, raised her black skirt up over her buttocks in an attitude which she assumed naturally and which represented the extreme of servility in prostitution. And then she asked in a sad voice, “Where is it?”
“I don't know,” I said distractedly. “You'll have to find another.”
“Oh! I make you hard, I suck you like I should, I tell you to cornhole me, that it won't cost you anything, and you don't lose your erection, but you fail me all the same. Do I disgust you? Doesn't it please you to cornhole a whore? What do I have to do now to get my six sous? Do you want to piss on my face while I close my eyes and open my mouth?”
“Listen, Charlotte. You're exaggerating!” I said, trying to stop her.
